


Ineffable Husbands Oneshots | Good Omens

by Krispy_Chips



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Gay, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), LGBTQ Character, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2020-07-29 17:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20086096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krispy_Chips/pseuds/Krispy_Chips
Summary: Just a collection of Ineffable Husbands oneshots because I need to do something with my spare time.





	1. Somebody To Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: This has a few timeskips and it's kinda messy but I tried my best. 
> 
> I've never written ineffable husbands stuff before so please forgive me if it's terrible.

It had been a hot and long day in Soho, the busy crowds only starting to fade away as the evening came, mostly bothered by the humidity that had built up over the course of the afternoon. The thinning masses seemed to relieve a certain angel, who finally had the opportunity to close his shop for now, grab a book and settle down with a nice glass of red wine. He had never really enjoyed running a business anyway, the bookshop known as 'A.Z. FELL AND Co.' only existing so that he had a place to store all of his books. He was an avid collector, after all. It hadn't been long before the angel had locked the door, closed the blinds and sat at his desk, a first edition copy of 'Biggles goes to Mars' in hand. It was one of the books that Adam had left in the shop after the armageddon that never was- he hadn't had time to read it yet, so he thought now was the perfect chance to skim at least the first few pages while he had the peace and quiet. This was where he was wrong. Yes, in theory this was the perfect time to read something. It was just the demon clicking his fingers and bursting through the door that threw a spanner in the works.

"Aziraphale?" He called, sounding a bit confused- he obviously couldn't see the angel through the mass of literature. The blond man soon appeared from behind a wall of bookshelves to greet him, a tad baffled himself. It wasn't like the demon to randomly appear in the book shop after closing time, especially without warning.

"Crowley?" He replies, "What are you doing here at this hour?"

"I'm here to invite you to dinner." The redhead grins, his reptilian charm working its magic on the angel. "Especially since a table for two has miraculously become free at the Ritz."

"Oh- ah, has it?"

"Yes, it has." Crowley continues to smile, opening the shop door and starting to head outside. "Don't fret, angel. I'll be sat in the Bentley when you decide you want to come." 

***

Much to Aziraphale's annoyance, Crowley was right. He was indeed sat in his black Bentley when the angel had decided to join him for dinner. 

"Don't look so smug." The blond told the redhead, "I was hungry anyway."

"Sure." The demon hummed, getting out of the car so he could walk around it and open the passenger door for his friend. "Are you certain it wasn't my demonic charisma that convinced you?"

"I'm certain." Aziraphale replied stubbornly, not wanting Crowley to be right again. Unfortunately, he was. "Besides, what would I find charismatic about you? You're a demon and I'm an angel- we're supposed to be enemies. You can't and won't charm me."

"You say that, but I don't believe you." Crowley grins again, closing the door before getting in the other side of the vintage car. He starts the ignition, beginning the pair's journey to the Ritz.

"What is there not to believe about what I said?" Aziraphale inquires, making the demon sat beside him look away from the road, almost hitting a pedestrian.

"The fact that you're a bad liar." Is all he replies.

"I-" The blond was practically speechless, giving the black-adorned man time to make another remark on his behaviour.

"Also it's fairly obvious that you are at least a bit fond of me."

"I'm not fond of you at all!" Aziraphale attempts to argue, but he knows he has already lost this debate.

"Is that why you blush ever-so-slightly if I look at you just the right way? Or why you sneak glances at me when you think I'm not paying attention? Give it up angel, you've grown attached to me."

"Maybe I have, but that's all it is: an attachment." The angel says, still lying a bit, though it's pointless. Crowley will just see through him again.

"Sure." The demon smirks, that tone of disbelief in his words once more. "So you're saying that your attachment to me isn't romantic at all?"

"All we are is friends." Aziraphale confirms, hoping desperately for the redhead to stop talking.

"Aziraphale." Crowley says, looking at the angel with his piercing yellow eyes, the other man trying his hardest to avoid his gaze. "I said you were terrible at lying."

"I- uh, I..." The blue-eyed man turns a rose colour, flustered to the point where he can't form sentences anymore.

"Don't say anything- don't worry about saying anything." The demon tells the angel, "We'll discuss this later." He smiles softly at Aziraphale, who just nods. "All I want right now is a nice dinner date with you."

***

As Crowley had desired, dinner at the Ritz had turned out to be quite pleasant. Of course, Aziraphale was still struggling to form words, but this was partly due to him shoving food into his mouth every five seconds. The demon, on the other hand, decided he would rather indulge himself in alcohol, downing glass after glass of champagne, only occasionally pausing so that he could breathe. Overall, things were going well, even though other couples dining at the restaurant would sometimes look bizarrely at them, but this was normal. Normal for Aziraphale and Crowley, at least. 

"So..." The blond started, watching as the redhead chugged another glass of champagne, his indulgence perhaps gone a trifle too far. "About earlier..." The demon looked at him, placing the glass down on the table; it was empty anyway, so it was no use to him now.

"What about earlier?" He asks, trying to reorganise his thoughts. Everything had been a bit frazzled by the copious amounts of champagne.

"I believe you described this as a 'dinner date'?" Aziraphale continued, smiling ever-so-slightly.

"And?"

"Well, I thought a 'dinner date' was something couples went on. Does that make us a couple?"

"Couples are normally a pair of people that are in love with each other. Does that mean you're in love with me, angel?" Crowley replied with a question of his own, smirking.

"You know the answer to that one..."

"So? I want to hear it from you."

"Then you'll be waiting a while."

"That's fine with me." The demon hummed, sitting back in his seat, relaxing a little. "I'll wait all you want."

***

It had been several hours before the pair emerged from the restaurant, giggling and giddy. They had found the Bentley parked askew halfway down the street, a parking ticket wedged in its windscreen wipers. Crowley laughed audibly, stumbling towards the vintage car as he said 'head office' would deal with it. Aziraphale, mildly drunk, concurred. 

"You're far too intoxicated to drive." He had also told the demon, who seemed intent on ignoring him.

"It's fine." He tried to convince the angel, "I'll run over no more pedestrians than usual."

"You don't normally run over pedestrians."

"So everything'll be fine." Clearly confident, Crowley threw himself into the car, soon looking to the left to check that Aziraphale had also made the same feat. Luckily, he had- injuries caused by getting in the Bentley were a common occurance on drunken nights out. Relieved that the angel was okay, Crowley began to drive, leaving a trail of destruction wherever he went. The blond was struggling to pay attention as buildings and roads blurred past, his inebriated mind totally disconnected from the world around him. The only times he spoke were to stop the demon from hitting people or other cars, which turned out to be a frequent occurance.

"Pay attention!" Aziraphale shouted at Crowley, who'd just narrowly avoided crashing into a tree.

"I am paying attention!" The redhead argued, though his statement was clearly false.

"People who are paying attention don't almost collide with trees!"

"It's the tree's fault for choosing to grow there!"

"I don't think the tree decides where it grows..."

"Of course trees decide where they grow! They're malicious bastards, you know." The demon continued to quarrel, determined he was right.

"And what makes you think you're right?" The angel asked, sighing. Crowley was typically argumentative when sober; being drunk only worsened the problem.

"I'm always right."

"No you're not!"

"I am!"

"You're not! You're just arrogant and insufferable!"

"I'm not arrogant!"

"You are! I don't even know why I love you!" The angel shouted at the top of his lungs, the demon beside him taking a moment to process what he said.

"What did you say?" He asks just to make sure he heard the blue-eyed man correctly.

"I said 'I don't even know why I love'-" Aziraphale suddenly stopped repeating himself, also realising what he has said. "I didn't mean-" He tries to explain himself, but he's interrupted by Crowley.

"You did mean that, and you know it."

"I-"

"Don't try to make excuses, angel. There's no point."

***

The rest of the drive back to the bookshop is completely silent, any of the angel's attempts to speak hushed by the demon. Luckily, it isn't long before the duo arrive at their destination, Aziraphale getting out of the Bentley to escape Crowley and his inevitable line of questioning. He is stopped as he reaches the door though, the one person in the universe he doesn't want to talk to stood directly behind him. 

"Not now, Crowley. I'm tired." He excuses himself.

"You're an ethereal being- you don't need to sleep. Of course you're not tired."

"Maybe you're right. It's just I don't want to discuss things right now."

"Then let me do all the talking." Crowley hums, gently putting his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders and turning him around. The blond is met with a gentle smile and a pair of hypnotic yellow eyes that seem to make him relax a little more. "I know you meant what you said." The redhead starts, the angel nodding in agreement. "And that's fine."

"Crowley I-" Aziraphale hesitates for a second, "I'm sorry I said nothing earlier. I didn't know how you'd handle things."

"It's fine, angel."

"Thank you for bringing me out to dinner." The blond smiles softly, "I owe you."

"You owe me nothing. I just did what dates do."

"Crowley-" before Aziraphale can finish his sentence, he's being wrapped in warm arms, held close in a comfy hug from his demon companion.

"I love you too." He says as the angel reciprocates the hug, making him feel equally as warm and comfy. Time could've stopped at that moment, leaving two immortal companions to spend the rest of their days like this, finally realising that they belonged together. And as Crowley lightly pecked Aziraphale's cheek, the blue-eyed angel said this:

"You feel like love." Because the demon did feel like love- but maybe he always had and the blond never noticed. To him, Crowley just felt like Crowley; the angel who vaguely sauntered downwards. Either way, he had the rest of eternity to get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! 
> 
> Honestly Good Omens has me really creatively motivated at the moment, so I thought I'd best write some ineffable husbands oneshots while I have the time. 
> 
> I don't know how frequently I'll update or how many chapters there'll be so don't hold your breath.
> 
> Also sorry that this one's really long! This one's supposed to be like 'the start of things' and I hope chapters to come won't be so long and timeskip-y.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


	2. A Kind Of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale being a concerned husband; you know, the usual.

Aziraphale pressed Crowley's doorbell again, hoping this time he'd open his apartment door. He'd been trying to contact him for the past half an hour; any sane person would've gone home by now, but the angel had to know if his demon companion was okay. It took a moment, but it wasn't long before the black door swung open, revealing Crowley behind it.

"Aziraphale?" He asked, his voice sounding deep in a way that sent shivers down the blond's spine, "It's three o'clock in the morning- what are you doing here?"

"Well..." Aziraphale began, "You hadn't contacted me at all today, so I thought it'd be best if I visited you to make sure you were okay." He smiled sweetly, making the redhead chuckle.

"I'm fine angel, I was just asleep."

"All day?"

"Yes, all day." Crowley replied, opening his apartment door some more. "You can come in if you want, angel. I could make some tea or cocoa or-"

"No thank you." Aziraphale interrupted, "Well, to the tea and cocoa. As for your apartment, I don't want to be invading your personal space and I'd best be going anyway now and-"

"Nonsense, angel. Come in, I insist." The demon convinced the angel, his serpentine charm at work.

"If you insist." Aziraphale caved in, following Crowley into the dimly lit apartment, taking in his surroundings as he walked. He didn't tend to visit the redhead often, but every time he did something in the apartment changed. The last visit the blond made to the accommodation, as he recalled, involved copious amounts of alcohol, multiple quarrels about holy water and a discussion about ducks- Crowley had always enjoyed talking about ducks. So as he traversed the apartment, Aziraphale had found things had changed quite a bit. There was a television for one, that of which was currently playing some nonsense soap opera as background noise. Crowley had also accumulated more houseplants since the angel last payed a visit, all of them still shaking. The blue-eyed man quietly miracled away any imperfections he saw in the greenery, knowing full well what would happen to it if he didn't. "I see you still have the best-kept houseplants in London." Aziraphale commented, flattering Crowley.

"I try my best." The demon replied, an arrogance about him; he already knew he kept the best plants in London, but Aziraphale reaffirming the fact gave him an extra confidence boost. There was a comfortable silence for a while as the pair continued to walk through the accommodation and sat down in the living room. The redhead was sat on his own coffee table, but he sat nonetheless.

"It's so nice to know that you're okay." Aziraphale suddenly gushed, making Crowley chuckle, "If you weren't, I'd probably be running around trying to look after you." 

"You wouldn't have to."

"No, but I'd want to."

"Someone wanting to look after me?" The demon scoffed, "I hardly believe that."

"Maybe that's because you don't realise the impact you have on people." 

"What impact? I'm a demon who's only purpose is to mercilessly destroy everything and cause havoc." 

"You're not just that!" Aziraphale scolds Crowley, who, for once, is actually listening to him instead of bickering. Perhaps he's too exhausted to argue- if that were possible. "Well, you're not just that to me."

"What am I to you then?" The demon inquires, getting comfortable on the table, preparing for the angel to recite some sort of long-winded speech. 

"You're ineffable, really-" Aziraphale starts, "I can't describe how much I adore you, how vital you are to me... If I were to be so cliché and whimsical, I'd say you were magical."

"Thanks, angel." Is all Crowley is able to say, partly because he doesn't know what else to say, and partly because he's holding back tears. It wasn't like him to cry. 

"Crowley dear, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." The redhead says, "It's just I never thought, in all my years, that I'd ever find someone who actually loves me."

"Well, it's a good job I'm here then, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is." Crowley yawns, still slightly groggy from being woken up by the angel. Aziraphale smiles while the demon yawns, finding it quite adorable; of course, he'd never tell him this as calling Crowley adorable in any way often led to death. Or inconvenient discorporation.

"I think we'd best get you back to bed." 

"Aziraphale, I'm a demon. I don't need to sleep."

"That may be true, but it doesn't mean you don't want to sleep."

"Okay, I get it." The redhead hums, "If you want me to sleep, I'll sleep." He grins mischievously, getting up from his seat on the coffee table before heading towards Aziraphale, who hasn't quite realised what's happening yet. He only realises when Crowley is sat on his lap, getting cosy as he buries his face in the crook of the angel's neck. The demon hums contently when he's comfortable, his arms and legs wrapped around his partner.

"Dear, don't you think it'd be better if you went to sleep on your bed?" Aziraphale asks, a tad flustered more than anything. He's not uncomfortable, just unsure of what to do.

"No, I like this." Crowley insists, sounding sleepy already.

"Goodnight then, dear." The angel says, softly kissing the demon's forehead.

"Goodnight, angel." The redhead purrs, falling asleep in his companion's arms, realising how loved he truly was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice and fluffy.


	3. You And I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirty dancing: ineffable husbands edition.

"Crowley dear, you stepped on my foot again." Aziraphale hummed, smiling warmly at his demon dancing partner, trying his best to cheer him up. The redhead was finding the waltz surprisingly difficult; his inability to move in time with the music fairly evident from the start.

"Sorry." Crowley grumbled, frustrated with the simple steps to the ballroom dance, still not being able to perform them no matter how much the angel assisted him. "Whose stupid idea was this anyway?"

"Yours, I believe." The blond replied, seeming to do the box steps with ease, making them appear much more straightforward than Crowley was finding them.

"How are you so good at this? It's not fair." The demon complained, almost stepping on Aziraphale's foot again.

"I've been to many an aristocratic party in my time, dear." The angel reminisced, "Don't fret; I'm sure you'll get a hang of it soon."

"Angel, we've been practicing all afternoon. If I don't get the steps soon, I'll never learn them."

"Oh, don't be like that." Aziraphale cooed, "You're over-thinking it, is all. You're worrying too much about everything being perfect."

"I'm not worrying about everything being perfect." Crowley retorted, refusing to accept that the angel was right. He always hated it when the blond was right, partly because he always got smug about it, and partly because the demon despised being wrong.

"You are, dear. I can feel it."

"If you think you're right, why do I worry about everything being perfect?" Aziraphale hummed for a moment, pondering the question. The answer soon became overwhelmingly obvious, and the angel couldn't help but sadly smile.

"You hold yourself to an impossible standard because you don't feel that you're not good enough for me."

"Perhaps that part is true..." The demon sighs, "You're perfection to me, angel, and I only want to give you what you deserve." Aziraphale smiles, this time a bit more thoughtfully, knowing how much Crowley was just trying to take care of him and make him happy. The angel did appreciate his efforts, though in his opinion they were wasted.

"Don't be so foolish, dear. You're already perfect."

"I'm a demon. I'm the opposite of perfect- I should be worthless to you."

"I'm not a typical angel. I don't see you as the scum that everyone else does."

"Why?" The redhead inquired, seemingly confused. He still couldn't fathom why Aziraphale, of all people, would actually care about him. It was a question of which he hadn't known the answer to for six thousand years, and he was about to find it out.

"You let me talk about ancient books and vintage wines, obscure restaurants and classical music. You cherish me and let me be myself, which is something head office would and could never do." Aziraphale smiles, seeing the demon brighten up a bit, "Perhaps I may never be able to fully articulate what I mean, but just know I love you."

"Well, I knew that bit." Crowley smirks, "If it means anything, I love you too, angel."

"I-" The angel stutters, a tad flustered, "thank you."

"Do you want to give this waltz another go?" The redhead grins, "I think I'll get it this time. Besides, you'll nag me if I don't attempt it at least once more."

"Oh, I don't nag." Aziraphale replies, offering a hand for Crowley to take, which he gladly does. It isn't long before the music plays, and as the blond slowly goes through the box steps, he notices that his dance partner follows patiently, starting to get the hang of things. He hasn't trod on the angel's foot again yet and appears to be perfectly mirroring the steps, partaking in the perfect waltz. The duo barely heed as the music ends, both desiring the continuation of the dance. "You did it." Aziraphale grins, resting his forehead against Crowley's. The demon grins back, a look of adoration in his eyes.

"Of course I did it, I had you helping me."

"I didn't assist you that much-"

"Nonsense, angel. Your presence helped me more than I can put into words."

"Could you describe me as ineffable?" The angel inquired; he had always loved the word for no particular reason, and his use of it was beginning to rub off on the demon.

"Yes- ineffable."

"Well I don't think all of that spectacular dancing was down to me." Aziraphale concluded.

"You know angel, your lips are awfully close to mine." Crowley observed, hoping that the angel would stop talking about dancing for at least one second. He loved the blond, but he could become quite tiresome sometimes.

"Oh? Are they? I hadn't noticed, dear."

"Well then, may I tempt you?" The redhead hummed, already knowing what the answer was to be. Granted, it had taken Aziraphale a moment to realise what he meant.

"Of course, dear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but sweet.


	4. Love of My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weddings.  
Just weddings.

"What if we got married one day?" Crowley burst out between a hiccup and a burp, laughing rather violently. Another night drowned in alcohol had come to pass and it was almost certain that neither the angel nor the demon would remember it.

"As in that thing humans do?" Aziraphale clarified as if marriage meant anything else.

"Yeah, that thing humans do."

"I mean, we could." The blond also hiccupped, almost sliding off of his seat. If anyone were to walk into the bookshop at that point, they'd quickly realise that its two occupants were thoroughly smashed and would promptly leave. Luckily for the duo, no one had walked in, sparing them from the embarrassment of this not-so-graceful night. "Isn't our eternal commitment enough then?"

"Eternal commitment isn't enough for humans, apparently."

"Crowley dear, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but we're not human."

"I know, it was just a thought." The demon took another slurp of his wine- well, he wasn't exactly sure if it was his wine, but it was in his hands, so he drank it nonetheless.

"N-now you come to mention it," Aziraphale stuttered, speaking excruciatingly slow as he thought of what to say, "we could have a nice ceremony."

"We could decorate the reception with lots of nice plants."

"They'd have to be pristine though- I don't want you going around and destroying everything at our wedding."

"You ruin all of my fun, angel." Crowley slurred, not truly meaning what he said. Aziraphale didn't ruin all of his fun, just the majority of it.

"Your idea of fun is eradicating every single thing you touch."

"It's fun, whatever you may think of it."

"I know, I know." The angel softly chuckled, placing his empty glass on the table next to him, knocking some books off of it in the process. "Who would we invite though? I don't think heaven and hell would be all that interested in coming." He changed the subject, hoping it'd distract Crowley from the topic of destruction.

"What about book girl and her boyfriend?" The demon suggested, tilting his head a bit.

"I don't think she's particularly fond of you, dear."

"What would you make you say that?"

"Well, you did hit her with your car while she was riding her bike." Aziraphale pointed out, much to Crowley's dismay.

"For, the last time, she hit me!" He protested, "Besides, humans can forgive and forget, right?"

"I don't think running people over is exactly forgivable, dear."

"Okay, okay- maybe we won't invite book girl..." The redhead grumbled, resting his head on one of his hands as he thought. "What about those kids? You know, the antichrist and his friends."

"Adam?" The angel pondered for a moment, "Hmm, I'm not sure his parents would be particularly fond of the idea of him attending the wedding of two strangers."

"You never know, they might be fine with it."

"I doubt it in this case, dear." The blonde gently dismissed the idea, trying not to disappoint his partner too much. Crowley was often temperamental when sober, so when drunk Aziraphale had to make sure to tread extra carefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!  
Can I get a wahoo?


End file.
